Hidden Desires - Family Secrets

Betty held her breath, her hair trailing across Michael's chest, a sensation I knew all too well.

Wet hair feels cold, and it tickles when it brushes against the skin.

Most people would react, maybe scratch or turn away, but Michael endured it.

His fists clenched, his body otherwise motionless, including his face.

He kept enduring, which I found odd.

Didn't Michael want to be close to Betty?

All he had to do was wake up, pull Betty into his arms, and everything would naturally progress.

Even if Betty struggled a bit, it would likely be a token resistance.

So why was Michael staying still?

Did he not want to be intimate with Betty?

Was he conflicted because of me, his father?

Had his conscience kicked in?

Michael's feigned sleep was full of holes, yet Betty, clouded in her senses, failed to notice as she continued to brush her hair tips across his chest, inhaling the masculine pheromones emanating from him.

Time ticked by, and Betty's desire grew stronger, her body responding more intensely, with Michael's scent undoubtedly acting as the best catalyst.

Eventually, Betty stopped her teasing and stood up straight, looking down at Michael, her breathing barely under control.

She glanced back at the door, then slowly began to undress.

The process was slow, her mind conflicted.

It seemed as if two souls battled within her—one urging her to strip, the other resisting.

However, the former prevailed.

Betty wore only three pieces of clothing, and despite her struggle, they were off in less than a minute.

Now, Betty stood completely naked, her wet nightgown, bra, and panties a damp heap on the floor.

Her body still glistening with moisture under the dim light seeping in from outside, she looked ethereal, glowing as if a bare nymph.

Another woman might have acted quicker, perhaps losing all sense in a frenzy, driven only by lust, and would have thrown herself at Michael.

But Betty cared too much about too many things, including her own moral compass.

She knew the potential consequences of her actions.

After our last emotional rupture, she definitely didn't want a repeat, but now she was beyond her own control.

Betty reached out with trembling hands, naturally aiming for Michael's groin.

Though his eyes were closed, he could still hear, and he definitely heard the sound of clothes hitting the floor.

His clothes were soaked through.

The sound was dull and heavy.

Betty's slender palms stopped just above Michael's groin, her hands shaking, barely inches away.

She was internally torn, seemingly struggling with her last bit of resistance.

If she pressed down, it would be a point of no return, perhaps her last chance.

With a soft moan from Betty, her hand pressed against Michael's groin, feeling the shape and heat of his penis through his pajamas.

The touch elicited another involuntary moan from her, a small satisfaction for her hungry body and mind.

And as her hand touched Michael's penis, her last shred of rationality was drowned by her arousal.

She was now merely a creature driven by lust.

The moment Betty's hand caressed his penis, Michael's body stiffened and trembled sharply.

Though he tried hard to feign sleep, he couldn't have anticipated such a direct touch.

Betty's hand might have been cold or perhaps very warm, making it hard for him to adjust.

Even as Betty was lost in the whirlpool of her desires, her senses were still alert.

Michael's obvious shiver couldn't be missed, and her fear and guilt made her freeze, her hands stopping on his groin.

Her eyes, fearful and hesitant, involuntarily moved to Michael's face.

He still appeared to be deep in sleep, but his body's tense reaction and clenched fists... Betty could tell he was pretending.

This scene mirrored one from two years ago, only the roles were reversed—Betty had feigned sleep while Michael had stealthily...

Now, it was Michael pretending to sleep, and Betty acting covertly.

After calming herself, Betty sighed deeply.

Completely naked, she was bent over from touching Michael's penis, her full breasts hanging down, forming a perfect inverted cone, swaying with her uneven breaths.

Her legs remained tightly closed, but the dense pubic hair at her groin slowly exuded glistening pearls of arousal, not remnants from a bath, but the love juices secreted from Betty's depths, squeezed out by her rubbing thighs.

Knowing Michael was awake, Betty felt no need to hold back.

Her initial worry that Michael might wake up prematurely was gone; he was awake, and the hardest part was over.

Michael hadn't resisted, which meant he wasn't opposed, at least not now.

A flicker of memory crossed Betty's bewildered eyes—the way Michael had fervently taken her two years ago was unforgettable.

Betty's hand left Michael's groin, leaving a wet palm print on his pajama bottoms.

Despite the time elapsed, Betty's body should have dried, but droplets still fell from her, all sweat now.

Betty took another deep breath, seeming much more relaxed, her body steadying.

She reached out and hooked her fingers around the waistband of Michael's pajamas.

Seeing this, I knew she was about to pull them down.

Michael hadn't worn underwear these past few days to seduce Betty, so removing his pajamas would strip away his last shred of modesty.

Without hesitation or pause, Betty began to pull down the pajamas, no longer concealing her heavy breathing.

Her unleashed desires surged as she tugged at Michael's sleepwear, her actions revealing her impatience.

At that moment, Betty resembled an addict in withdrawal, with Michael as the drug that could soothe her craving.

Normally, it would be difficult to remove pajamas from someone lying down, but Betty knew Michael was pretending, so she didn't hold back.

Perhaps the drugs had given her extra strength, for Michael's pajamas came off without much effort.

Michael's thick penis and his hairy thighs were now fully exposed.

Betty completely removed the pajamas from Michael and tossed them aside, undoubtedly fueling her desire even further.

Although Michael couldn't see anything while feigning sleep, the thought of the current scenario still involuntarily aroused him, though he wasn't fully erect yet.

After removing Michael's pajamas, Betty didn't immediately pounce as expected.

Instead, she quietly stood by the bed, admiring Michael's robust penis, which now appeared as the most exquisite object in her eyes.

With a soft creak of the mattress, Betty knelt and climbed onto the bed, sitting beside Michael.

She just stared at his penis, unblinkingly, the calm before the storm.

Betty reached out and grasped his thick penis, which wasn't fully erect yet but was already impressively sized.

Having bathed Michael two years ago, Betty knew its size then, and it was even more formidable now.

Excitement sparkled in Betty's eyes, now that she had let go of all reservations.

"Michael, don't wake up tonight, let's just pretend this is all a dream..."

As she held his penis, Betty's lips parted, and a husky whisper escaped, echoing like a voice from the depths of hell in the quiet room...